Therapy
by WastedJamie
Summary: Dean goes into therapy to try and deal with Sam leaving. It starts off a little serious but that won't last for long! Please read & review so I know if it's worth the effort.
1. Chapter 1

Sam had only been gone for three weeks but it already felt like an eternity to Dean. His departure to college wasn't a typical one. There was no going-way party or gifts. No handshake or slap on the back for a job well done. No hug good-bye not even a "see you soon". No tears; unless you count the ones Dean privately shed as he watched from behind the curtain as his whole purpose for living climbed into the taxi and drove away. That night, that painful image, was still very vivid in his mind. It had been consuming his every thought every minute of every hour of everyday for the past three weeks; just as it was now.

The bar was loud and smoky but Dean didn't care. It was paradise compared to the crappy motel room he and his father had been sharing for the past two weeks. John had told him to turn in early. He had headed out as soon as he heard the shower start.

Dean washed the lump that had started to form in his throat down with the remnants of his third beer. He tipped the empty bottle to the bartender silently indicating his desire for another.

"Make that two." The gruff, familiar voice behind him instantly broke Dean out of thoughts making him jump slightly.

"Didn't mean to startle you kid." John Winchester said sliding onto the stool beside his son. "Not good to have your guard down like that son."

Dean ignored the criticism and continued to look forward, making only brief eye contact with his father via the mirror behind the bar. "How'dja know I was here?"

"I'm your father; it's my job to know."

"Really." Dean stated in a tone he knew he'd probably regret later. "So tell me, _father_, where's your other son tonight?"

"Dean" John warned. He wasn't in the mood to have this argument again especially in front of a bar full of strangers. The first week Sammy was gone neither one of them spoke a word about it. By the time week two ended it seemed like all they did was fight about it.

Dean turned towards John with fire in his eyes. The alcohol was in full swing and he knew he was about to cross the line this time. He also knew his father didn't tolerate behavior like he was about to unleash but at that moment he didn't really give a shit about what John Winchester did and did not tolerate.

"No Dad, really, I want to know; since it's your job and all, maybe you could enlighten me. See; me; I have no freakin clue as to where Sammy is right now or who he's with. I haven't seen or heard from him in weeks ever since you kicked him out and told him to stay gone. Hell, for all I know he's face down in a ditch somewhere and you don't seem to give a rat's ass, so please; do tell."

His heart was racing, his palms were sweaty and his whole body was trembling with adrenaline. He watched as his father's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed; two instant, telltale signs that were common before a Winchester explosion.

John took a long swig of his beer, stood up and tossed some money down on the counter. Dean froze when he felt his father's hand on the back of his neck and his green eyes watched as John placed his other hand on the bar encompassing him. Leaning in close John spoke low and slow.

"O.K., you're upset with me, I get it, and I know you're hurting right now so I'm going to do you a favor and save you the embarrassment of me hauling your ass off that stool and dragging you out the door." Now", John said squeezing Dean's neck a little harder, "We're leaving. By the time I hit that doorway your butt better be in your car and halfway back to the room or so help me God…."

Dean didn't wait for John to finish. He pushed his stool back and headed towards the car.

John sat in his truck in front of the motel intently watching Dean as he paced back and forth in the room like a caged animal. This moment had been weeks in the making and John needed to make sure he handled it right. Ordinarily he wouldn't have hesitated one second. He would have marched right in and put a boot up Dean's ass for disrespecting him the way he did but this was no ordinary situation. Sammy's leaving had Dean tail-spinning and for the first time in his life, John couldn't help his son. He had hoped that the moodiness and the drinking would have subsided by now but it only seemed to be getting worse. For the first time in twenty-two years Dean was disobeying orders and he was becoming self destructive and a danger to hunt with. John realized it was time to take action, serious action when he found the drugs hidden in Dean's bag. He had to get his son help before he succeeded in destroying himself. However, convincing Dean of that was probably going to be more challenging than hunting the demon itself.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean was anxiously waiting for the imminent showdown to get started. The anticipation alone was enough to make him hurl. He shuttered slightly as he replayed the scene at the bar in his head. What the hell was he thinking? Obviously he wasn't hence the predicament he was in now. He tried to think of the worse thing John could possibly do to him. Hit him? _Naw_, he would have done that already. It didn't matter where they were or who they were with; if John thought one of his boys deserved a smack, they got it. The fact that they were in a crowded bar wouldn't have mattered one bit. Speaking of which, where the hell was his dad? He had ordered him back to the room over an hour ago. Maybe this "solitary waiting" ploy of his was a new sick method of punishment that John thought up. God only knew what went on in that man's head.

Dean spun around and his stomach lurched when he heard the key in the lock. _"Showtime."_

Father and son exchanged a momentary glance but neither said a word as the older hunter entered the room. Immediately thankful for the extra time he allowed himself in the truck John calmly walked over to the table and pulled out one of the wooden chairs. He set it in the middle of the room.

"Have a seat."

Dean subconsciously crossed his arms in defense. "I'm good."

John sighed as if he had anticipated his son's response. He strode towards Dean and paused for a brief moment before grabbing a hold of the boy's shirt and slamming him hard onto the chair.

"Sit, while you still can." he said dryly.

"Whatever." Dean muttered.

"_Excuse me?"_

Dean's shoulders dropped as he slumped a little stretching out his legs. "Do whatever you want; it doesn't matter."

John kicked his boots implying that he should sit up. "What does?"

Dean adjusted himself in the chair again knowing the repercussions if he didn't. He shot John a slight look of confusion due to the question, but said nothing.

"I'm beginning to think that nothing matters to you these days." John's statement was met again with stone-cold silence. _"Terrific."_ He thought to himself. _"Damn kid is 99.9 Mary from head to toe and the lousy .1 he had the great misfortune of inheriting from me just had to be the freaking Winchester inability to communicate._

He wiped a calloused hand over his tired eyes and down his face. "Look, believe it or not I miss him too, but _Jesus_ Dean. You have to admit you've been more than a monster pain in the ass these past few weeks. Not to mention you're completely off your hunting game. You've deliberately disobeyed direct orders and you've been out every night this week doing God knows what so you better start talking or you and me; we're going to have problems, now speak."

Dean, at a total loss for words, lowered his gaze. He just didn't have the emotional strength look his father in the eye.

"Dammit Dean, _answer me_!" John growled this time using both his hands as he grabbed a hold of his son.

Dean's hands flew up and covered John's. He hadn't realized he'd stopped breathing until his father released him and shoved him back onto the chair. His breath returned in short gasps.

John moved behind him regretting having been the cause of the fear he just saw in his eyes. It was obvious to him, now, that his standard method of parenting wasn't going to work. Not this time.

"Fine." He began. "You don't want to talk to me; that's fine. But you _are_ going to talk to someone whether you like it or not. The drinking I can deal with. The mood swings I can tolerate, to a point, but the drugs? No way Dean; not on my watch. I will not stand by and watch you destroy yourself. Not now, not ever.

John's voice trailed off and Dean's eyes grew wide. _Drugs??!! Son-of-a-bitch!!! _His mouth went dry at the realization that his father must have found the pills he had confiscated from Sam a few months ago. _Dammit Sammy! You're not even here and I need to cover your sorry ass._

"Dad; I swear, it's not mine." Dean blurted out so forcefully that John almost believed him.

"O.K., who's is it?" He half-sat on the corner of the table keeping one foot on the floor ready to spring in case his son decided to try and bolt. . "Look around you Dean." He spread his arms out wide. "There's no one else here."

He watched as the young man's eyes danced, struggling to find the right words. John knew his kid's body language well enough to know when they were lying or trying to hide something from him; especially Dean.

Come on, I'm not stupid. I was your age once too you know. I'd be lying if I said I never experimented, but I don't even recognize that shit.

"Dad, I… uh, its…."

John waited for him to continue but when it was obvious that he wasn't he stood up and approached the chair. Dean's body went rigid.

Soothing his tone as best he could John looked down at his son and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He felt Dean relax a bit.

"O.K., listen to me cause I'm only going to say this once. There's a woman in the next town. Her name is Alex Bales. She's a Psychologist or Psychiatrist or whatever, shit, I can't remember what the hell she is but Jim told me she's really good at dealing with this kind of stuff. You have an appointment with her tomorrow morning at 9:00 am."

Dean closed his eyes and shook his head in defeat. _"Great, Pastor Jim's thinks I'm a strung out junkie too? Sam, you are so going to get your ass kicked for this." _He went to protest but closed his mouth when his dad's hand pressed harder into his shoulder.

"This isn't a request Dean. Miss this appointment and you won't go hunting for quite some time. I'll see to it that you spend all your time with me talking about your feelings and listening to all my worldly, fatherly advice. Understand?"

Dean knew it was useless to argue. "Yes sir".

"Good boy". He said clapping him on the shoulder before he headed towards the light switch. He stopped and shot his son a knowing look.

"Oh, and if you're thinking of leaving, don't bother, you can't. I've rigged both cars and there are no buses or taxis within a hundred miles of here. And yes I know you're good with cars but never forget; _I'm better_."

John winked and smiled smugly at the look of horror that crossed his son's face. He flipped off the lights. "Don't worry kid; I didn't hurt your baby. Night son."

Dean threw his head back and groaned_. "Great, just freaking great."_


	3. Chapter 3

"_Hey it's Sam; actually this is my voicemail (laughs). Leave a message and I'll call you when I can." Beeeeeeeep._

"Dude, that's gotta be the stupidest message I've ever heard. Anyway, you are so freaking dead when I get my hands on you. You better be enjoying yourself college boy cause next time I see you I swear I'm gonna …………." Dean slammed the phone shut when John walked in the room.

"Who was on the phone?" He asked handing Dean a steaming cup of black coffee.

"No one. Thanks." He said placing the phone in his pocket and gratefully accepting his favorite thing on the food chain. His dad would be pissed if he knew he had called Sam.

John eyed his son suspiciously. "You ready?"

"You fix my car? _(sadistic bastard)_ Just so you know that was totally _un-cool_ dad. Guys don't mess with other guy's cars, especially ones like the Impala."

John just shook his head as he slung his bag over his shoulder and headed outside. "I think I'm gonna talk to the Doc about this unhealthy obsession you have with that damn car."

"Shhhh, not so loud, she'll hear you." Dean scolded as he walked anxiously up to his pride and joy. "Mornin sweetheart. You're looking good today. This ol man here didn't hurt you last night, did he?"

John rolled his eyes. Yeah, this appointment; _definitely_ a good idea and in his mind, _long _overdue. At least Dean was speaking to him this morning and he did appear to be in a fairly decent mood. He wondered how long it would last.

The ride to town took about two hours. John had called ahead and asked Bobby if they could crash at his place for a few months while they took care of some business. John didn't go into any details and Bobby didn't ask.

Caleb was already there working on a new hunt so Dean would at least have someone closer to his age to hang with. Maybe Caleb could help fill the gapping hole Sam had left in Dean. Right, who was he kidding? Well, at least it would be another pair of eyes to watch Dean and keep him out of trouble. Not that Caleb was the best role model in the world but Dean was the closest thing Caleb had to a kid brother and he was protective of him.

The Impala and John's truck both came to a halt in front of Dr. Bales building. Dean sat and stared out the window. "_Man, this is going to suck. What the hell am I suppose to talk to this chick about for a full hour"??_

John approached his son. He could see the apprehension in his eyes. "Want me to go in with you?"

"Come on Dad. It's embarrassing enough just being here. Last thing I need is my Daddy holding my hand and escorting me in. I'm fine. I don't even know why I'm here. I told you the drugs weren't mine and I promise I'll…..

"Alright, that's enough; listen to me." John placed both hands on Dean's shoulders and bent his head down slightly to look him straight in the eye. I'm only doing this cause I care about you; you know that right? You've been tail-spinning for the past few weeks and you need help." "Now;" John said straightening up. "Don't be a pain in the ass. Open your mouth and talk, but don't be disrespectful. Give her a chance and listen to what she has to say. And last but not least, for the love of God Dean, _**do NOT hit on her!**_ Do you hear me???"

Dean had to smirk. His dad knew him too well. He placed a hand over his heart and shot his father a look of disbelief. "Dad, honestly, I'm hurt that you would think…."

John ruffled Dean's hair and gave him a small shove towards the door. "Shut up and get your butt inside. I'll meet you back at Bobby's at 10:30, not a minute sooner.

As Dean headed towards the door a feeling of dread swept through his body. He couldn't wait to get this morning over with. He glanced one last time over his shoulder at John who was leaning against the Impala, arms and legs crossed. He wasn't moving until he saw Dean enter the building with his own two eyes. There was no escaping.

Reluctantly he placed his hand on the door knob and paused. He contemplated one last time about making a run for it but the thought of his father finding out made him shake that idea out of his head once and for all. John had already warned him once. There wouldn't be another.

"Come on Dean, stop being such a wussy. The sooner you start the sooner you'll be done. Just go in there, nod your head every once in a while, throw in a couple _"uh huh's"_ and _"I understand's"_ and get the hell out. You'll be happy, Dad will get off your case and you can go back to finishing your list of "101 Ways to Kick Sammy's Ass". Great….just great, now I'm talking to myself. Christ, maybe I do need a shrink. Damn you Sam, this is all your freaking fault.

Frustrated, Dean pushed on the door a little harder than he intended to and it slammed open knocking a picture on the wall off one of its hooks. All eyes in the waiting room flew from the door to the swinging picture and directly back to him.

_Nice one Dean, way to go_. Leaning over to fix the picture Dean tried to apologize to the room.

"Hey there, uh sorry bout that. Don't worry; I'm not some psycho, nut job or anything like that. I mean _(cough)_, not that there's anything wrong with being a psycho or a nut job; you know _(cough)_; especially here, right? I mean who doesn't love nuts?? _I_ love nuts!!!" _Shit what the hell am I saying??_

A tall, attractive, blonde in her mid thirties appeared from behind the frosted glass wall. She extended her hand towards Dean. "Dean Winchester I presume? I've been expecting you. I'm Dr. Alex Bales. Why don't you come with me?" She had a firm shake. Dean noticed as she turned to walk back towards her office that her handshake wasn't the only firm thing about her.

"Well, well, well." He smiled to himself. "Maybe this therapy thing won't be so bad after all."

Her office was warm and inviting. Pictures and Diplomas covered the walls and a small, rock fountain trickling soothing water was on her back credenza.

"Have a seat Dean. Anywhere you feel comfortable. I'm guessing from that little display out there that you're a little nervous. Is this your first time seeing a Psychiatrist?"

"Me? Nervous? Nah; just don't know my own strength is all. What, no couch?" Dean joked dropping himself into the nearest chair and placing his feet on the coffee table.

"Sorry to disappoint you but not all Dr. Offices are like what you see on T.V. Would you mind removing your feet from my table please?"

Sheepishly Dean lifted his boots and sat up in his chair. "Sorry. Hey, doesn't listening to that fountain all day make you want to pee?"

Dr. Bales rolled her eyes and sighed before turning around to smile at Dean. She sat in the chair across from him. Damn she was beautiful. Her long blonde hair fell loosely around her shoulders and her blue eyes sparkled as she seized up her newest patient. Her voice was soothing, yet confident and strong.

"O.K, the only ground rule I have is that you're open and honest with me and yourself. Sitting here nodding your head and _"uh huh-ing"_ me every now and then won't work. If all goes as planned you're going to be doing most of the talking. This is your time to get in touch with your feelings and to work out whatever issues brought you here in the first place. Everything you say in these sessions will remain confidential between you and me unless I think you're a danger to yourself or to someone else. Deal?"

"_Sessions?_ Did you say _sessions_ as in more than one??" The complete look of utter disbelief on Dean's face told the good Dr. that John had not been 100 straightforward with his son. Damn, why didn't that surprise her.

"Um yes, your father arranged for us to meet once a week for the next three months. Didn't he tell you?"

"_Three months!!"_ Dean ran his fingers through his hair and sank lower into the chair.

"I take it from your reaction that you two didn't discuss this. You didn't think we were going to be able to address all your issues in one session, did you? I mean I'm good, but not that good."

"No he failed to mention your little _arrangement_." Dean snapped. "And just for the record, I don't have any _"issues" _to deal with.

Alex looked at the young man sitting across from her. He looked like he had just been sentenced to life without parole. _"Well, this should be a fun three weeks."_ She was going to have to take it slow and easy with this one. She could tell from the start that he was not like any of her other patients. It was going to take some time to find the key to this kid's soul.

"O.K. then, why _are_ you here?"

Dean laughed through his nose. "Let's just say I didn't have much of a choice. My father strongly encouraged me to come; but I'm guessing you already knew that since you two have obviously spoken."

"Look, Dean. Your family is worried about you."

"Family? You mean my Dad."

"No, I mean your family. Your Dad, Pastor Jim, Bobby, Caleb, Sam."

"Sam?? How do you know about Sam?"

"I spoke to him. Your Dad gave me his number."

"You spoke to Sammy? When did you talk to him? Where is he; is he alright?"

Bingo! Alex smiled to herself. Looks as though I had his key in my pocket all along. "He's fine Dean." "Tell you what," she said shifting in her seat and leaning in towards him. "I don't usually do this but I'll make a deal with you. I'll tell you a little bit about what Sam and I spoke about if you promise to give this a shot. A real shot. One month, four sessions. If you still want to end it after that then I'll support you when you speak to your Dad. O.K.?"

Dean looked skeptical but nodded his head in agreement. "O.K.; you first."

"Nice try." She smiled. He liked her smile. It reminded him a little of his mother. "So talk to me a little about your Dad Dean."

She noticed that he visibly tensed at the mention of his father. "What do you want to know?"

"Whatever you want to tell me."

"Not much to tell. He's, you know, Dad."


End file.
